A/N: Like I promised, here's the next chapter. I think I'm going to have to rate this story M from now on. Because I have a habbit of writing stories darker as I go. It's a habbit, but I like suffering. In a non psycotic way.

Thank you to everyone who has been reading this story and enjoying it. It's nice to know that people like it! Now please be aware that I don't have a Beta, I did, but that person took over two weeks to Beta one thing. So if anyone out there would like to be my Beta leave me a message or write it in a Review. Anyway, Enjoy!

Descending

Some days are special. Some days are so, so blessed. Some days, no body dies at all. Now and then, every day in a very long while, every day in a million days when the wind stands fair, everybody lives. Suns may burn, planets may die but in the midst of it all. There's always hope.

The room was nothing but an inky blackness, like a river of thick colourless water. Dean couldn't make out anything through the blanket of darkness. Something itchy protruded though his arm, Dean moved his hand to the shape, it was some sort of needle. He gasped as he ripped the piece of metal out of his arm and threw it to the floor. Wherever he was it was quiet, extremely quiet, the only sound was a slow, pulsing sound. With time it grew faster and louder, filling his ears. He moved to cover his ears to block out the pulsing sound. But couldn't, his right hand was handcuffed to the side of the bed. Blood pounded through his head painfully, a material had been wrapped around his head. But it was soaked with blood. The pulsing sound grew louder, and then he realized what it was, a heart monitor.

"Hello? Is anybody out there?" Dean called out, disorientated.

Dean heard someone rush into the room. "Doctor he's awake!" said a soothing female voice.

Another person strode into the room with a quick pace, obviously a man's, the footsteps were too heavy and loud to be a woman's. "Can you hear me sir?" the Doctor asked.

"Yea-yeah, I can here you," Dean paused for a second. "Where am I?" he tried moving his head but it was too painful.

"You're at Naeve Hospital," he replied. "You were brought here this morning by a Mr Mitchell Blake; you attempted suicide at his house in front of his daughter. Mr Blake admits that you were very drunk and depressed last night, so he let you stay at his house the night. You shot yourself and ended up cracking your skull on a glass table. Does that sound about right?"

There was a long pause. Suicide? He didn't try to commit suicide. Where did they get that idea from?

Then it came to him, Ali. She must have made up a story to make them believe that he had tried to kill himself, the little bitch. Who wouldn't believe a child? It was wrong, so wrong.

"I didn't try to commit suicide, It was the girl, she shot me," as soon as the words came out Dean knew how unbelievable it sounded. "You have to believe me."

Dean could hear the Doctor scribble some notes onto a piece of paper. The woman was somewhere over to Deans left shuffling through some draws.

"I believe you, Mr Winchester. But you have to co-operate with us otherwise you won't be able to get better. You have a long recovery ahead of you, so I suggest you get some rest," he clearly didn't care about Dean.

"Then if you believe me, why am I handcuffed to the bed?" Dean asked tugging at the handcuffs.

"That's just a precaution," he replied back with a finality that kept Dean from asking anything else.

Dean tried to open his eyes but he couldn't. The darkness was still there, drowning him in it. Then he realised his eyes were open. They'd been open all along

"I can't see!" Dean panicked.

The Doctor shone a torch into Dean's eyes. "You hit your head pretty hard on the table, I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. But your occipital lobe suffered severe swelling, we tried to prevent any further damage but we were too late. The damage had already been done by the time the ambulance had arrived. You will never be able to see again."

- - - - -

Sam was worried. He'd searched all over town for Dean; it had taken him a good part of the day. He had managed to find the Impala outside a pub called the 'Viking Draft', abandoned. Dean would never leave the Impala out in the street; he was frightened enough just leaving it parked outside a motel.

After hours of searching through the deserted city streets, Dean was nowhere to be found. This scared Sam, was it possible we went to find the creature himself? Was he hurt?

Sam turned the Impala down another street. At the very end were about half a dozen police cars and an ambulance. The little yellow house was swarmed with policeman. At the front gate was a stunningly beautiful brunette who was answering questions to a police officer. In her arms was a little girl, she had night black hair that went half way down her back.

Carefully slowing the car down, Sam parked the Impala behind a Four-Wheel Drive. He hopped out of the car slamming the door behind him and walked down to the crime scene.

Pulling out his fake FBI badge he made his way through the officers.

One of the policemen was still asking the brunette questions. "I know this is hard, but is there anything you can remember? Anything at all that might help us in this investigation."

"I've already been through this with two other officers," she was almost crying now. The little girl in her arms had her face buried in the woman's shoulder. "I'm not going through this again! I just want to go home and look after Alice until someone can take proper care of her."

This was his cue. Sam began manoeuvring until he was right next to the officer. "Terrance Night, FBI. I was ordered to come here to assist this investigation," he lied. The officer examined the badge that Sam had shoved in front of his face and turned back to the woman.

"I'm Lieutenant Sergeant Eric Lawns. So I take it you know what happened?" the officer asked Sam.

"I wasn't exactly told anything. I was hoping that you'd fill me in on all the details," Sam lied again.

The Lieutenant Sergeant hesitated for a few seconds, but eventually started filling Sam in on the details.

"Approximately eleven hours ago, a couple were literally boiled alive. There was no sign of forced entry, and no sign of foul play. The coroner suspects that they died due to some sort of acid being injected into their blood. But he's not sure. None of us have ever seen something like this in our lives. This is the fifth or sixth murder this week. There is no connection between any of the deceased. What is going on?" the Lieutenant Sergeant starred at Sam hoping for an answer, but he had none.

"I don't know, this is the first time I've come across something like this. And that says a lot," Sam sighed.

"Well a fat lot of good you are then!" yelled the brunette.

Sam turned around to see her walking towards him. "What's your name?"

"Sarah," she snapped.

"You found the bodies, right?"

Her face went from angry to scared as the memories came flooding back. The twisted and melted faces of what use to be Naomi and Paul filled her mind. "Yeah," she struggled to get out.

Sam turned back to the Lieutenant Sergeant. "If you don't mind, I think this woman needs so rest. I'll take her home while you continue on with your investigation. Is that OK?"

The Lieutenant Sergeant thought it through and finally said that is was fine. Sarah seemed relieved to get away from the house.

Sarah carried Alice through the police following Sam. After a minute of two they made it back to the Impala.

"This is your car?" she stared at the car, a strange looked encompassed her face.

"Not really, It's my brothers," he said. Sarah seemed wary to hop in the car.

"You're not the police, are you?" she asked.

An awkward silence followed. Only to be filled with the voice in Sam's head.

'You better kill her, Sammy. Any moment now she's going to run to the police. Go on, kill her! Before it's too late,' the voice was practically screaming at him. But Sam ignored it as much as he could.

"No, I'm. Me and my brother came here to find what's been killing there people and stop it," he paused. "For good," Sam took a deep breath hoping she believed him.

"It's not human. It can't be. What I saw..." fear swept her eyes. "What I saw was impossible. What I heard was Impossible."

Alice took her head away from Sarah's shoulders. "It was the faeries! They killed my mummy and daddy."

Sam walked over to Alice and Sarah in an attempt to comfort them. "What makes you say that, darling?" Sam asked kindly, his voice soothing to both of their ears.

"Ssh! They'll hear you," she looked around, making sure nothing could hear them. "Their everywhere."

Sam looked around, but couldn't see a thing. "I think there hiding right now. What makes you think the faeries hurt your mum and dad?"

"It's my fault. That's why there hurt," she started to cry again, a tear forming in her eyes. But Sam wiped it away with his finger.

"Why would you think something like that?" Sarah asked.

"Because they told me it was," she buried her head back into Sarah's shoulder.

The voice in Sam's head was louder than ever. It was screaming at him, Sam felt like he was being ripped apart from inside-out. All of a sudden it stopped, to be replaced by an evil laughter.

'You won't be able to stop us, Sam. We have control now, and nothing you or your brother do now can get in our way.' Then the screaming continued.

That was all it took for Sam's mind to crack. The only part of Sam that was left was a deep madness, the oncoming storm had arrived.